


And I have heard you never really lose it, do you? Do you?

by buckybunnyteeth



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Matt, Dorks in Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:31:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybunnyteeth/pseuds/buckybunnyteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You always were a lightweight, Murdock.”</p><p>The memory of shot gunning with Foggy in college flooded his mind, and he felt a blush over take his body. At least he was feeling things again. </p><p>“What am I going to do with you, buddy?”</p><p>Matt turned over so he was pressing his face into the other man’s hip.</p><p>“Stay?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stay.”</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p>Three times Foggy took care of Matt and one time Matt couldn't take care of Foggy</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I have heard you never really lose it, do you? Do you?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt from WishUponAHoshi which i kinda strayed from. Prompt;
> 
> Ahem: Matt is injured, and they both enjoy Foggy raking care of him (not necessarily in the euphemistic way). Lots of sweetness.

“I really don't know what "I love you" means. I think it means "Don't leave me here alone.”  
-Neil Gaiman

…

1.

Foggy entered the dorm room with his traditional cacophony of noises; the scraping of his shoes, light swishing of his hair, the gentle singing under his breath and the faint gurgling of his stomach that meant he was going to order in Chinese for the both of them. It’s a very specific sound. 

Normally these noises wouldn’t bother Matt, they had become part of his everyday life over the past year. But today-

Today Matt had woken up with a pounding headache and clogged up sinuses, and every bone in his body aching for absolutely no reason. He felt like shit, and every noise that Foggy made sounded like jack hammers, terracotta pots scraping on the ground, metal clacking against teeth. It was unbearable, and Matt curled up more in bed in an effort to hide just how much it hurt.

“Hey Matty-“

Foggy’s voice cut off abruptly, no doubt noticing Matt’s prostrate state. 

“Hey,” he spoke again, voice barely a whisper, “Bad day for noises?”

Matt managed a nod, pretending that it wasn’t exhausting and painful to do so.

Foggy went quiet again but Matt could feel that he was still there. He was trying his best to be quiet, but he didn’t know exactly how enhanced Matt’s hearing is so he had no idea that no matter how he tried he was still loud as hell. 

“You think you can make it to the shower buddy?”

He was closer now, and his voice quieter. Matt made an aborted noise that hopefully told Foggy all he needed to know.

There was a shift in the air and a squeak of floor boards. Foggy was kneeling next to his bed.

“I wanna try something okay? We try this and then you try the shower, huh?”

“Fog-“

“Trust me, Matt.”

Matt sighed and waited.

Foggy took a deep breath and slowly, methodically began to count backwards from ninety nine. Low and steady.

Matt couldn’t help but focus on the words, he let them wash over him. He focused all he could on Foggy, his steady words, steady breath, steady heartbeat. The rest of the world fell away. The tension left him, unfisting his hands from the sheets and unlocking his ridged spine. 

It wasn’t uncommon to his meditation. Matt knew that Foggy used counting when he was stressed or in pain or scared, counting down or up to distract him from all else and focus him on what was needed. 

This was the first time he had used counting to help Matt with his over sensitivity though. Later Matt would have to analyse that (and panic).

Foggy reached Zero and Matt let out a long, relived, sigh.

Foggy laughed in a whisper, “Think you can manage that shower now?”

Matt hummed. It was only a temporary fix, but it would have to do for now.

“Need help getting there?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, mister, up you go.”

Foggy gently helped him up from the bed, touching him as little as possible and never raising his voice above a whisper.

“Thanks, Foggy.” Matt said as his roommate helped him undress for his shower.

“Anytime man. You know I’ve always got your back.”

“I’ll remember that next time you get hungover.”

“You better.”

 

2\. 

Matt wasn’t trying to get hurt, honest to god he tries his hardest to not get hurt. But some people are faster than him, and others are bigger, and Matt isn’t always the one with the upper hand. Getting hurt happens. 

But now that he has crawled home and stitched himself back together he realizes he is much more hurt than he had thought. His senses, how he ‘sees’, are all sluggish and his head is throbbing and he can’t seem to muster the will to get up from the bathroom floor. The tiles feel so blessedly cool against his face.

“This isn’t good,” he mumbles to the tiles, “I need…”

He stops himself and frowns.

Medically he didn’t need Claire, he had patched himself up and he was pretty sure what he had was just a minor concussion paired with extreme exhaustion.

But he wasn’t sure if Foggy would come if he called. He didn’t want to be alone. But he couldn’t ask that from Claire, she had made that clear. 

It’s a simple routine to getting better after a night like this, he knows the motions by heart. What to eat, how much to drink, how much he should or should not sleep. But Matt has been alone so much lately- not just Daredevil, but Matt has been alone. He barely sees anyone outside of work, bareley speaks to anyone besides the men he chases down in the street. 

He misses Foggy and how they used to be.

Before he is fully conscious of it he is dialing Foggy’s number.

“Nelsons funeral homes, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em, how may I direct your call?”

Matt let out a slightly gurgled laugh at Foggy’s sleepy voice.

“Oh, shit-“ the other man cursed over the phone, making noises that sounded a lot like someone falling from the bed, “Matt? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Matt drawled, and maybe he was more hurt than he had thought, “Mmmm, I have a concuss- thing. One of those.”

“Jesus shitting Christ.”

Matt laughed and it came out as a kind of maniacal giggle. 

“Language.”

“Don’t ‘Language’ me Matthew,” Foggy hissed without malice, “Tell me where you are so I can find you and kick your ass.”

“You wouldn’t. You love me.”

Foggy sucked in a breath and if Matt was in any other state of mind he would have realized that was the wrong thing to say.

“Where are you Matty?”

“Mm,” Matt hummed, feeling ready to fall asleep, “Floor.”

“Floor? Okay, buddy- which floor?”

“Hmmm…Bathroom?”

“Okay,” Foggy sighed, and Matt heard the jangling of keys, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, hang tight.”

Matt frowned into the floor when Foggy hung up. His head was swirling, the same nothing that he always saw was still in place, but the sensation of swirling and twisting had filled up his mind, making him dizzy and disoriented-

So much so that he hadn’t realized Foggy was in the room with him until his hands were carding through Matt’s hair. It felt nice.

“Jesus, Murdock,” Foggy sighed, hands checking him over for injuries in a familiar way, “What have you done to yourself now?”

Matt curled towards Foggy’s hands, feeling himself relax and the frantic spinning in his head lessen. Foggy always made him feel better, always saved him. Matt grinned and waved his arm around until he made contact with Foggy’s face and cupped his cheek. 

“Hi,” Matt giggled.

“This does not seem like just a concussion, Murdock,” Foggy said with a shaky voice, picking Matt up from the floor as he spoke.

“There was…” Matt swirled his unoccupied hand through the air as he chased his own words, “Someone … I think it was drugs.”

“Drugs!?”

Matt winced at Foggy’s exclamation, but his face flattened out again when it came into contact with his sheets. He felt Foggy’s hands pulling his clothing off, but the sensation was dim and distant in a way that should have scared him to death. But Foggy’s here so why would he be afraid? He rolled into the warmness of the other man’s hands.

“I should call Claire.”

Matt shook his head and captured one off Foggy’s hands, bringing it under his head like a pillow. 

“’was just Pot, Foggy,” He admitted in a mumble, “They were smoking it in their …. Place.”

“Hideout?”

“Yeah, that.”

Foggy sighed and sat down on the bed beside him, his free hand returning to card gently through his hair.

“You always were a lightweight, Murdock.”

The memory of shot gunning with Foggy in college flooded his mind, and he felt a blush over take his body. At least he was feeling things again. 

“What am I going to do with you, buddy?”

Matt turned over so he was pressing his face into the other man’s hip.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stay.”

Matt didn’t sleep that night. He spent the rest of the night and morning in a kind of meditation, his face pressed into Foggy’s skin while he counted the other man’s heart beats. 

 

3.

“Shit!” Matt exclaimed despite himself, hand gripping the metal rods of Foggy’s bed head even harder, “Fuck, Foggy!”

“Shhh!” Foggy giggled, pressing his face into Matt’s back, “My neighbours are super old and super prudish, Matt.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” Matt panted out with a smile.

“Oh my god, do not talk about stuff like that when I have my dick in you, Murdock.”

“Then how about you shut me up, Counsellor?”

“Urgh, no law talk either.”

“You love it.”

“I kinda do.”

Matt let out a low laugh that quickly turned into a gasp when Foggy began to move again, plastering himself against Matt’s back as his hips began to piston in and out of him. Matt felt himself getting louder and pressed his face into the pillows. Foggy laughed at him and leaned his head down to whisper into his lover’s ear.

“Come on, Matty,” Foggy whispered, his lips brushing against Matt’s ear and his hands going up to cover his on the head board, “I know you have another on in ya. Come on.”

Matt groaned. Foggy wasn’t kidding when he called him a light weight. Everything goes to his head, alcohol, drugs, (Foggy). And sex was no different. He comes from barely anything, and while most people found it annoying, Foggy thought it was the best thing in the world, saw it as more of a challenge. He even called him cute for it once. 

Tonight he had already come twice, from a rushed hand-job at the office and a blowjob by the door, and Foggy was trying to fuck a third out of him. 

His whole body was alight, his sensed zeroed completely in on his lover. It was a heady rush, too much and not enough at the same time.

Matt gasped again, head lurching up from the pillow as Foggy sucked a mark on to his neck.

“Come on, Matt, I’ve got you,” Foggy groaned into his skin, “I’ve got you, Matty. I’ve always got you.”

It became too much and bubbled over and just like that Matt was moaning loudly into the open air as he finally, blessedly came. 

Foggy laughed into his neck as he came down from his high.

“My neighbours are totally gonna hate me now.”

“Or maybe they’ll want to join in.”

“That’s it, Murdock! I am never sexing you again!”

Matt couldn’t hide his grin if he tried.

 

+1.

Matt couldn’t stop shaking. His hands, his legs, all of him was shaking so badly it’s all he could feel. 

No that’s not true. He can feel the oppressing heat of the lights around him, the uncomfortable opulence of the seat beneath him, the breathing of people obviously hovering around him. 

His heart breaking in his chest.

The other room was sound proofed so he couldn’t hear the beeping of monitors or the doctors’ orders. Couldn’t hear Foggy. Was there even anything left to hear?

He dropped his head to his still gloved hands and drew in a long, trembling, sigh. 

Beside him footsteps approached and a throat cleared. Every sound around him was like fuel for his rage, bubbling under his skin and in his throat, competing with his sadness and worry, ultimately giving him a headache.

“So, Mr Devil,” the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark announced to the room, “Are you going to elaborate on exactly what is happening here? I mean- I am always up for an impromptu surgery, don’t get me wrong, but I would like a few details as to why said surgery is happening.”

Matt grit his teeth to hold in a snarl.

He had been taking down a bad guy, an assassin for an organization Matt had yet to find the name of. All he knew was that they all moved and attacked just like Stick.

But everything went wrong.

They took Foggy. They took Foggy and then they shot him and left him on the cold warehouse floor.

It was a courtesy and a warning. It told him to stay away from them and as a reward he got to keep his best friend. They would be pulling something later today, but Matt wouldn’t be there. He couldn’t be. 

Because Foggy is in the other room bleeding out and Matt. Cant. Fucking. Hear. Him.

“Leave him be, Stark,” Called a low and calm woman’s voice, “I don’t think he’s the kind of person you want to tick off. Being the devil and all.”

Black widow. Or Natasha, she had asked him to call her Natasha. She as the reason he was here. He had backed her up in a fight a few months ago and she gave him a number to call if he ever needed her to return the favour. She is the only reason Foggy is alive. He will never be able to pay her back.

“Oh I’m sorry, I forgot it’s your name on the tower- oh wait.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Tony.”

“Shut it, Katniss.”

“Stark, I don’t think-“

“I juts wanna know who the guy bleeding out in the other room is, I-”

Everything in him bubbled over and Matt surged to his feet. He strode across the hallway, barely missing the annoying billionaire, to slam his hands against the wall. The wall that separated him and Foggy.

He could feel the tears escaping from under his mask, and the way she shoulders were shaking. He’s meant to be a soldier, a protector. He’s not meant to still be the broken boy crying in a blood stained alley. He’s meant to be better. Now all of his better is bleeding out and he can’t even hear his fucking heartbeat.

“Daredevil-“ Natasha starts, sounding forcibly soft and tranquil, “Don’t listen to him, we-”

Shaking hands leave the wall and he pushes the cowl off of his head just so he can fist his hair. The Avengers collectively still in the room, and heart beats race, but none of them are the ones he want's to hear. 

He turns away from the wall just so he can slump against it.

“I can’t...” it comes out in a sob, too raw and wet, “I can’t hear him. I can’t hear his heart.”

There is no fight without Foggy. Nothing in his bones or knuckles, without Foggy. Is he even a person without the other man, or is he just vengeance and reckoning wrapped around a skeleton? 

He slumps down to the floor, chest heaving as his whole body panics. He can’t lose Foggy. He doesn’t remember who he was before Foggy, doesn’t want to have to have a life that is tittle ‘After Foggy Nelson’. He doesn’t want to go back to that blood stained alley or that fear drenched basement. He want's sunny mornings and beer fueled laughing fits, all night workloads and kisses goodnight. 

He want’s Foggy to stay. He just wants someone to stay for fucking once.

Matt doesn’t feel or hear another person until they are sitting down next to him. They place something on Matt’s knees, a tablet, and tap on the screen until it starts emitting a steady beeping noise.

He would know that sound anywhere.

“Foggy,” he says below his breathe.

All the tension leaves his body and he sags down, almost pressing his face against the tablet.

“Could’a just told us you were blind, dude,” Tony Stark murmurs from beside him, “Probably wouldn’t have made an ass out of myself if you did.”

A watery chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“I don’t think I’m the one that made you an ass.”

There are several squawks of laughter from down the hall and Stark's happy even if he is objecting to the insult.

“You’re gonna fit in just fine,” Captain America tells him.

The heartbeat evens out and sounds like sleep. Foggy is safe. Foggy is alive. 

“Do you want to clue us in on who did this to your friend, Buddy?”

Matt turns his head to grin at the billionaire.

“How about I take you to them instead? They would love to meet you.”

He thinks he hears his own feral heart beat bounce back from Stark's chest.

“Sounds like a party.”

…

(Foggy chews him out later for being reckless. But Matt grins the whole way through. He kisses him in front of the Avengers. It was on Foggy’s bucket list.)

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea of Matt just not caring about secret identities when someone he loves is hurt and the avengers just roll with it.  
> Tell me what you think?
> 
> Edit; Thank you to LachesisMeg who found all of my typos and is a very lovely person over all.


End file.
